The Bookworm's Guide to Flirting (The Bookworm's Guide 3)

The instructor gave the first position, and I moved into it. I had the upper body strength of a potato, so none of this was easy. Still, I made it through the first ten minutes of the video without throwing up, and I really thought I was doing well.

Until I had to balance on one foot.

That did not go well.

“Oomph!” I just managed to use the sofa to break my fall, but I still hit my knee hard on the floor.

This.

This was why I didn’t work out. It was not getting me fitter, it was getting me a trip to the ER.

I perched on the edge of the sofa and stretched out my leg. It was a little sore, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed with a couple of aspirin and playing on it so I wouldn’t have to do the stock take this week.

What?

Holley would only tell me I was doing it wrong.

And I was. I always did it wrong, because she inevitably took over. She liked it. I didn’t. It was fair.

I forced myself to get back up and continue the video.

“What was that bang?” Dylan asked, walking into the living room. His eyes flicked over my body. “Oh. You’re doing yoga. Are you unwell?”

“Ha, ha, ha. You’re sooooo funny,” I deadpanned in response. “I fell over.”

“You fell over.”

“Yes. I don’t have great balance. It’s why I’m doing yoga. To improve it.”

“Right.” There was a flick as he turned on the kettle, and I moved into the upward dog position. “Your form is awful.”

“I’m trying!” I huffed, peering over at him. “Aren’t you supposed to support people in their fitness endeavors?”

“I support the people who pay me,” he replied with a chuckle. “And this is hardly an endeavor. You know as well as I do you’ll be over it next week.”

“Well, then, don’t be a dick about my form.”

“I only mention it because you could hurt yourself.”

“I already hurt myself,” I muttered, moving into downward dog like the lady said to do.

“Oh, for God’s sake.”

I peered up in time to see him approaching me. “What?”

“I think you’re doing it deliberately now.” He flattened his hand on the small of my back and pushed down. “Your back needs to be straighter. You’re all hunched up.”

“What are you—”

“Your feet need to be parted, not held together. No wonder you’ve got no balance. You have the spacial awareness of Bigfoot in a glass cage.” Dylan moved behind me and grabbed one of my ankles, moving my foot out a little, then he did the same with the other one. “You need to try to get your feet flatter on the floor, too, so you’re stretching properly. Right now, you’ve just bent over on your tiptoes.”

“Uh-huh. Can you move now? I can feel you breathing on my butt,” I whispered.

“Yeah, well, having your arse in my face isn’t how I planned to start my day either.” His voice was tight, but it wasn’t a tone that said he was annoyed. More… restrained.

I didn’t want to think about what that meant.

“Right. Into upward again now.”

“That’s not what she said on the video.”

“Saylor, professionals don’t do yoga on their kitchen floor. They film their videos in a studio or specific space. She’s just a person who likes yoga and half the things I’ve heard her say are wrong.”

“You’re in a terrible mood this morning.” I did as he said, though.

“Better than the last one,” he acquiesced. “I’m tired. I was out late and have three sessions this afternoon. I was hoping for a lie-in, but you’re not exactly quiet.”

“Excuse me for falling over. I’m fine, thanks for asking. Now what do I do?”

“Back up into downward now. Slowly, or you’ll hurt yourself and pull a muscle.”

I did as I was told.

“Now, come back on your feet. Slowly, slowly. Push your heels into the floor.”

I tried. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Come on. If you want to do this, do it properly, and it’ll get easier faster.”

“I don’t bend that way!”

Dylan took hold of my hips and—

That was it. That was all I knew.

Pretty sure my feet were now flat on the floor, but my body was also flush against his, and I was bent right over.

Unless I was mistaken, I wasn’t the only one aware of this predicament we’d ended up in, because I was ninety-percent sure I could feel his, um.

His upward dog, if you got my drift.

I swallowed. The feeling of his cock pressing against me was doing things to me it shouldn’t be doing, and the memory of last night’s fantasy flashed in my mind.

“I think the blood is rushing to my head.”

Dylan grunted and released my hips. I dropped to my knees and deliberately tried not to look at him when he walked past me.

I swallowed.

This was awkward.

“So I think I’ll take up running instead,” I said chirpily after a moment.